<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Yours by Apuzzlingprince</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226275">Yours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apuzzlingprince/pseuds/Apuzzlingprince'>Apuzzlingprince</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Fanfics [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:14:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apuzzlingprince/pseuds/Apuzzlingprince</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s not your fault,” Geralt finally ground out, coming to stop before his trophy shelf. He flexed his hands a few times. “I thought this was fine. I thought it would work.” He shook his head, and Regis’ heart plummeted even further.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Geralt," he said quietly. "You don't owe me anything, neither your love or your friendship. If ever I-"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I already told you,” said Geralt, a little harsher and louder than necessary. “It’s nothing to do with you. I want you. I want this." His voice dropped in volume as he continued. "There's just something wrong with me, Regis.”</i>
</p><p>Geralt grapples with the abuse he experienced as a young man. Regis is there to guide him through it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Fanfics [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1057313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Best Geralt</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Yours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Whao this is a super old fic! But I figured I might as well post it, since it was done. If you notice anything off, it's because it's years old.</p><p>Obvious warning for rape/non-con here. It's not explicit, only spoken about, but this whole fic is, you know... rape recovery, so it's unavoidable.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A long silence followed the kiss. A chaste brush of lips was all Regis had dared give Geralt, but looking at Geralt now, with his eyes wide and his jaw slack, he was starting to think he shouldn’t have attempted any sort of affection at all.</p><p>Shame coiled within Regis. He hadn’t meant this to be the means through which he admitted his feelings. He’d simply seen Geralt’s face lit up by fight light, his lips wet with drink, his face flushed, and he’d thought to himself <em>now, now is as good a time as any</em>, but-</p><p>He should have given it more thought, considered a better way to approach his confession. He’d been a fool. </p><p>“Geralt, I… I’m sorry.”</p><p>Geralt slowly closed his mouth, examining Regis with the sort of interest he would evidence for a case. He said nothing for a long while, a deep divot right between his eyebrows.</p><p>And then he took a swig of mandrake brew. A larger one than usual. Regis averted his eyes, shifting uncomfortably upon his log.</p><p>“Going to need you to explain what that was,” said Geralt once adequately intoxicated.</p><p>Regis swallowed. “I enjoy your company quite a lot, Geralt. I’ve come to like you very much.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Well, I…” Regis offered a helpless little shrug. “That is what one does when they like another.”</p><p>“So, you were, what?” Geralt regarded him warily. “Just confused?”</p><p>“No,” said Regis. “A little uninhibited by the good mood, perhaps, but otherwise I know exactly what I want, and that is-“ He licked his lips, bracing for a rejection. He could expect nothing else after the response his kiss had received. “It is you, Geralt. I want you.”</p><p>“You want me,” murmured Geralt, and Regis didn’t like the way he said it, like it was something hard and unpleasant in his mouth.</p><p>“Yes, I do.”</p><p>“You want to bed me?”</p><p>Regis opened and closed his mouth stupidly, almost at a loss for words. Geralt sounded as though he were <em>accusing</em> him of deviance. While he’d never seen Geralt with another man, with how open-minded Geralt generally was he’d never thought him the sort to take issue with same gendered interest. “I’m – not opposed,” he said, quietly. “But that is up to you.”</p><p>Geralt shook his head, going in for another swig of mandrake. Regis was tempted to take it from him. Going at the rate he was, he’d end up bent over a bucket before morning.</p><p>“Which is it?” he asked.</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” said Regis.</p><p>“Do you have romantic inclinations or sexual ones?”</p><p>Regis cupped a hand to his temple. “Never mind that those things are not mutually exclusive, I am not bearing my heart to you simply because I wish to go to bed with you. I love you no less than any woman could. If that upsets you, then I will respect that and speak of it no more, but please do not insult me by suggesting my sole interest in you is carnal.”</p><p>Geralt was silent for a long moment. He traced a finger over the rim of his bottle. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “You caught me off guard, that’s all, and I am a little inebriated. Not thinking straight.”</p><p>“I can tell,” said Regis. “You’ve been gulping that down like apple juice.”</p><p>Geralt offered him a weak smile.</p><p>Regis smiled back, just as weakly. “I suppose this means you do not reciprocate my affections.” He made sure not to look too affected. He didn’t want to spoil the mood more than he already had. “It was worth a try, hm? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, but I apologise for not having the forethought to simply ask you.”</p><p>“Never said I didn’t reciprocate,” said Geralt, and it was with so much uncertainty that it was almost as bad as a rejection.</p><p>“You do not need to." Regis' calm facade faltered, his smile dropping away. “Your behaviour is quite clear. And, as I have already said: I will respect your feelings on the matter."</p><p>“I haven’t decided anything,” said Geralt.</p><p>Regis arched an eyebrow. “You seemed quite opposed a moment ago.”</p><p>“I just need time to think," said Geralt, shrugging a shoulder. “Regis, it's... it was only a few months ago that I ended the relationship with Yennefer.”</p><p>“I should have considered that,” said Regis, guilt audible in his voice. He’d made such a fool of himself tonight and he wasn’t even the one who’d polished off half a bottle of mandrake brew.</p><p>“It’s alright. There are worse ways you could have propositioned me.” Geralt finished off another mouthful of brew before standing and brushing down his thighs. “I should head home. It’s getting dark.”</p><p>It had been dark for several hours now and that was no hindrance to either of them, but Regis didn’t protest. The man needed space and Regis would let him have it. He nodded and raised a hand in farewell.</p><p>“Sleep well, Geralt.”</p><p>“You too, Regis.”</p><p>Geralt strode down the hill and out of sight.</p><p>Regis watched the fire until it turned to ambers, and only as the last wisps of smoke rose from it did he retire to his crypt, feeling no less foolish despite the passing of hours. He slept fitfully and without any genuine rest. Worry kept him awake, worry that he had effectively ruined his friendship with Geralt by admitting his feelings, that he had changed it in some irrevocable way. It wouldn’t be the first time a confession had brought ruination to one of his relationships. Four hundred years was enough time for him to have experienced just about every twist and turn a relationship had to offer, and sometimes even the strongest were negatively impacted by the introduction of romance.</p><p>He was so terribly worried.</p>
<hr/><p>It was three days after his confession that he finally saw Geralt again. Regis was already weak from regeneration, and now he was even more so after not getting more than a wink of rest in seventy-two hours. His head nodded against his clavicle and he had to fight a smile onto his face when he saw Geralt approach.</p><p>He stood and brushed dirt off his knees, shoving the mandrake he’d been collecting into his shoulder bag. He was already working on his next batch, though he couldn’t be sure if he would have company to drink it with.</p><p>“Good evening, Geralt,” he greeted the man, coiling his fingers around his bag strap. “What brings you here? Need you help with something, perhaps?”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Geralt, gesturing over his shoulder. “Got freshly cooked chicken back at Corvo Bianco and no one to eat it with. Bring some of that brew and we’ll make a date of it.”</p><p>Regis’ features slackened with shock. “…Forgive me, Geralt; I only ask as I do not wish to get the wrong impression, but did you just say <em>date</em>?”</p><p>“Yeah, I did,” said Geralt, flippant. “Don’t belabour it. Grab some drink and let’s go.”</p><p>“Oh.” Regis almost dropped his trowel in his haste to comply. He quickly shoved it into his bag, next to the mandrake roots, and brushed the dirt off his fingers. “I have a few more bottles left, but they aren’t as potent. They should suffice, however.”</p><p>“They’ll do,” Geralt agreed, turning to retrieve Roach from the patch of grass she was feasting on and draw her to the exit gate, where he waited patiently until Regis had retrieved the bottles and hurried back to him.</p><p>Regis’ fatigue was driven away by pure shock. This was not the outcome he’d been prepared for. The hostility Geralt had shown to the idea of their coupling had left him certain that, at best, he could hope he hadn't compromised their friendship.</p><p>It hadn’t quite registered that his advances had been reciprocated even as he pulled himself onto the saddle behind Geralt and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle, marvelling at the warmth that radiated from Geralt’s body. In fact, it didn’t register until Geralt had served him dinner and asked him if he had ‘been in a relationship with a man prior to this’.</p><p>His lips curved, and they remained that way no matter how hard he tried to get himself under control. The relief was too great.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, slicing into the thickest part of a chicken leg and working at separating it from the bone. “I have experienced many, <em>many</em> relationships, but few have been of the serious variety. I simply did not enjoy being alone in my youth.”</p><p>“And what variety of relationship is this?” asked Geralt, forking some meat into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed before continuing. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not interested in a fling.”</p><p>“Nor am I,” said Regis. “I would have not agonised over this so were it simply a fling I desired. Those feelings are easily addressed. The ones I currently have for you are not.”</p><p>Geralt applied more cranberry sauce to his meat. “Good,” he said. “Haven’t been one for flings since I recovered from my amnesia.”</p><p>“Nor have I been one for a very long time,” said Regis. “And, if I may ask, have <em>you</em> had a relationship with a man?”</p><p>Geralt paused, then shook his head. “No.”</p><p>“Are you going to have any trouble navigating one with a man? There are a few differences, as you may be aware.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Regis didn’t quite believe him, but he refrained from saying as much. “So it would be safe to say we are now, as you humans so charmingly put it, 'dating'?”</p><p>“We're dating," Geralt confirmed, faintly amused. "You'll have to tell me what the vampire equivalent is called.”</p><p>"I will be glad to later." He didn't always have a lot he wished to say when it came to the finer details of vampire culture, but the workings of romance of his kind was something he'd be glad to divulge. First, however, he wanted to probe. He didn't yet have a comprehensive answer for why Geralt had been so put-off by his confession. While he was sure his relationship with Yennefer <em>was</em> a motivating force, he didn't think it covered every odd detail of what had transpired that night.</p><p>"Have you anything else to add?" he asked. "Anything else you wish to discuss?" </p><p>Geralt canted his head. "Nothing's coming to mind," he said. "Nothing I want to bring up at this early period, anyway. But seems like you do."</p><p>"You're right there," said Regis with a small, awkward smile, his sharp premolars extending over his bottom lip. He wouldn't push if Geralt didn't wish to discuss it. “I can think of a few things, but it sounds like you'd rather bask in the moment, and I won't deny you that.” Perhaps he just needed to give Geralt some time to adjust to the transition from friend to lover, let him deal with any lingering feelings he had for the women in his life. Only if his awkwardness persisted would Regis worry.</p><p>(Or worry more, rather).</p><p>“Who could resist with you,” said Geralt, which was impeccably smooth. Regis gave a startled sort of chuckle.</p><p>“To basking, then,” he said, and that was where their discussion ended. Regis leapt into explaining that among vampires, 'mateship' tended to be used for all steps of a relationship, rather than the variety of different words that humans had. It was how one addressed their mate that changed the nature of the relationship, and Regis had a few lovely words in mind for Geralt.</p><p>They'd finished dinner by the end of this spiel and helped Merlene clean the dishes. Merlene tried to usher them away, but they would have none of it. It was the least they could do after she had cooked them such a sumptuous meal.</p><p>Once done, they retired to the porch and chattered idly over drink about everything and anything except the most important of things. When it came time for Regis to return to his crypt, Geralt grasped him by the collar of his coat, drew him in for a kiss, and then turned and hurried into his house. Regis just barely caught his ‘goodnight’ as he shut the door.</p><p>He should have slept well that night now that he had Geralt's reciprocation, but Geralt's initial response to his interest – it plagued his mind, and he could not sleep as deeply as he would have liked. It was times like these that he wished he still drank. The blood of an infant had always been ideal for easing him into slumber.</p><p>But he was not that man anymore, and so he tossed and turned and simply had to put up with it.</p>
<hr/><p>When next he saw Geralt, the first thing out of his mouth was: “Geralt, why did my confession upset you so?”</p><p>He had tried to hold himself back, he really had, but Regis had always struggled to exert control over his mouth. </p><p>Geralt looked taken aback. “Been wanting to ask that for a while, I gather?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Regis, his entire body slumping in defeat. “Goodness, yes. I'm thrilled that you reciprocate my interest. I could not be happier with that, but I worry there are certain boundaries you haven't expressed with me, or you simply aren't ready for a serious relationship after so soon after Yennefer, and if that is the case, I've no issue with postponing until such a time that you-"</p><p>“Calm down, Regis,” interrupted Geralt. “There's no need for postponing or anything else.”</p><p>“But you seemed so troubled,” said Regis, his voice growing weak. “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.”</p><p>“You aren’t making me uncomfortable,” said Geralt. He grabbed Regis around an upper arm and pulled him into the stables, out of hearing range of his workers. “What is it I've been doing that makes you think I’m uncomfortable? Other than my initial surprise, I mean.” His brow knitted. “I kissed you yesterday, didn’t I? If I was uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have done that.”</p><p>“I suppose not," Regis conceded. "But…”</p><p>“And don’t worry about what happened at the fire," Geralt pressed on. "I was drunk and still trying to work through my feelings for Yen. I want this, Regis. I do.”</p><p>“Even though I am neither Yennefer, nor a woman?”</p><p>"Even then,” said Geralt. “Might take some getting used to, but that’s all.” He leaned close, his expression earnest. "I want this, Regis. Don't doubt that."</p><p>Regis took a needless breath and nodded. “We can take things slow,” he said, coming up to Geralt and gently retrieving his hands, holding them in his own. “As slow as you need, and for as long as you need.” He offered a warm smile, which Geralt returned. Had Regis a heart that functioned like that of a humans, it probably would have been fluttering. “Having known Yen as long as you have, I understand that this must be a very difficult period for you. Know that you may talk to me if ever you need a sympathetic ear.”</p><p>“Talk about my past beau to my current beau?" Geralt snorted. "You sure that’s wise?”</p><p>“I am over four hundred years old, Geralt, far beyond the age where I am plagued with things such as jealousy.” That wasn’t <em>entirely</em> true, given how upsetting the thought of losing Geralt to someone else was, but while he could experience jealousy, he wasn’t a man that indulged in acting upon it, and that was the important part.</p><p>“Mhm. Right,” said Geralt, not sounding at all convinced. He brought a hand to Regis’ chest and spread his fingers over his sternum, resting them there. “Doubt I’ll need to take you up on the sympathetic ear, but thanks. Appreciate the concern.”</p><p>Regis quirked a lip. “I’m always concerned about you, Geralt. It’s my natural state of being.”</p><p>“No wonder you’re never any fun to be around,” said Geralt playfully.</p><p>Regis gave a little, self-deprecating chuckle. “What a mean-spirited man you are. Come here. You must be taught a lesson.”</p><p>“Oh?” Geralt wagged his eyebrows. “Wouldn't have taken you for a man into such things."</p><p>"Then you've much to learn about me."</p><p>"Sure sound like it, and I'm eager to." Geralt's eyelids lowered, the luminescent gold of his irises lighting up his lashes. "How do you intend to teach me a lesson then, <em>sir</em>?"</p><p>Regis had never much liked the phrase ‘fire in one’s loins’; he thought it cliché rubbish, but that rather adequately described the response he had to being referred to as ‘sir’. Rather odd considering he was often referred to as sir by other people, but in this context…</p><p>“There are many lessons you could benefit from,” murmured Regis, applying his hands light to Geralt’s sides. He felt and saw the shiver that elicited. “Where would you like to start?”</p><p>Before their flirting could progress any further, Geralt closed his hands over Regis’ and slipped away. “Later,” he said, running a thumb briefly into Regis’ palm before stepping out of reach. “I have gardening to do.”</p><p>“Oh, yes.” Regis tried not to sound too jarred by the abrupt end to their playful exchange. Going slow was going to take both of them some getting used to, it seemed. “Would you like me to help? I’m quite a talented gardener, or so Dettlaff liked to say.”</p><p>“I'd welcome your company.”</p><p>They vacated the stables and stepped into the greenhouse, where Geralt’s Winter Cherries were blooming nicely. He helped Geralt pick the ripest ones for Marlene, who liked to add them to salads as a sweet kick, then guided Geralt as he gave the plants a much-needed prune. When they were done, they had a basket full of cherries and a lovely clean garden to show for their efforts.  </p><p>He and Geralt had what could have been classed a second date that evening. When it came time to retire for the night, Geralt let him kiss back before closing the door in his face.</p><p>They were making progress.</p>
<hr/><p>Even prior to starting a relationship, he and Geralt had been at each other’s dwellings just as much as they had their own. They never bored of each other’s company. With how often they had seen each other, one might have thought them a couple long before they became one, and becoming a couple didn’t actually change all that much, except that now there was flirting and kissing. Regis would have liked to venture beyond kissing, but as Geralt had indicated he wasn’t yet ready for such a step in their relationship, he didn’t press the matter. Regis was patient.</p><p>The only request he made of Geralt was that they would share a dwelling on the odd occasion to make visits easier and longer (and perhaps share a bed, if Geralt permitted it), and that was agreeable to Geralt. He slept in the guest room, for the most part, but Geralt would occasionally invite him into the master bedroom and they would hold each other throughout the night. They never spent the night together at Regis’ crypt, but that had more to do with it being a rather dirty and unpleasant place to sleep than any discomfort on Geralt’s part.</p><p>It was a month into their relationship that it seemed to occur to Geralt that he ought to be giving Regis things, and so he did. His gifts were books, mostly, but sometimes he would drop off a professionally tailored suit at his crypt (when he’d gotten Regis’ dimensions, Regis wasn’t sure) or a trinket or two. Regis gave him things in return, usually little trinkets from Beauclair market that reminded him of Geralt. It brought them both pleasure to be able to treat each other.  </p><p>Slowly but steadily, Geralt seemed to getting accustomed to navigating a relationship with a man and recovering from his separation with Yennefer, and after four months, Geralt finally demonstrated that he was ready to bring intimacy into their relationship by rolling over in bed, clambering atop Regis, and kissing him. Regis kissed back, raking his fingers up into Geralt’s hair and drawing their bodies together, his hips brushing Geralt’s. It didn’t take long for both of them to get aroused. He smelt it in the air, thick and alluring. He flipped them around and gently grabbed Geralt's wrists in one hand, pinning them to the mattress as he ventured down his body, licking and biting his way toward Geralt’s chest. The man’s breathing accelerated. His heart usually went a steady pace, but now it was thudding as loud as thunder. Regis wondered just how fast he could get it to go if he got his lips around Geralt’s cock.</p><p>He secured his teeth around a nipple and dragged his free hand down Geralt’s heaving chest, his nails leaving delicate pink lines on the pale skin. The fine hair that trailed up from his crotch brushed his fingers. He stroked them before descending lower, reaching for the warmth of Geralt’s cock.</p><p>Geralt jerked so violently that Regis was almost jostled off of him. And worse still, he then ground out the word <em>stop</em>.</p><p>Regis froze. He looked up at Geralt and saw that the man’s teeth were clenched hard enough for the muscles in his neck and jaw to strain. He withdrew his hand.</p><p>“Geralt?”</p><p>Geralt wasn’t looking at him. He was instead staring at the bedside table.</p><p>“Geralt, did I- did I hurt you?” His nails – he looked down at the fine pink lines on Geralt’s chest and wondered if perhaps Geralt had become sensitive to harm following his retirement.</p><p>“Regis,” said Geralt. “Get off me. Please.”</p><p>Regis quickly did as he asked, mentally berating himself for not thinking to do so sooner. He sat on the edge of the mattress.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t dare touch Geralt, though he desperately wished to comfort him. “I should have- I pushed you too hard. I apologise.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” said Geralt, but the answer sounded automatic, prompted by habit.</p><p>Regis shook his head. His skin was prickling with the beginnings of anxiety. “Geralt, I must ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me.” He didn’t wait for Geralt to reply; Geralt might get the idea to deflect if he waited too long. “Are you uncomfortable with this because I am a man?”</p><p>It was a long time before Geralt answered him.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Regis’ heart sunk. “I don't understand why you would...” He took a sharp breath. "You don't feel you <em>owe</em> me this, do you?"</p><p>Geralt sat up in bed, throwing his legs over the side of the mattress. “No, it’s not that. It’s nothing you did.”</p><p>That did little to ease Regis’ distress. He straightened in place as Geralt stood and began to pace.</p><p>“What is wrong, Geralt? Please, I want to help you.”</p><p>Geralt threw his hands up into his hair, pushing it back from his face. He swore under his breath.</p><p>“Geralt, please,” Regis pleaded, looking beseechingly at his lover. “I want to understand. I want to help.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault,” Geralt finally ground out, coming to stop before his trophy shelf. He flexed his hands a few times. “I thought this was fine. I thought it would work.” He shook his head, and Regis’ heart plummeted even further.</p><p>“Geralt," he said quietly. "You don't owe me anything, neither your love or your friendship. If ever I-"</p><p>“I already told you,” said Geralt, a little harsher and louder than necessary. “It’s nothing to do with you. I <em>want</em> you. I <em>want</em> this." His voice dropped in volume as he continued. "There's just something wrong with me, Regis.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Geralt took his fist fighting trophy from the shelf, wiping a slither of dust from it with a thumb. Regis saw his face reflected in the gold. He looked tired and so very old, older than he ever had before.</p><p>“I did some stupid shit as young man, as you do. It ruined a few things.”</p><p>“And one of those,” began Regis, hesitant. “Was relations with men?”</p><p>“Give me a minute,” said Geralt, setting the trophy aside and running his hands once more through his hair. “I just need a minute. I’m getting there.”</p><p>“Take all the time you need,” said Regis. “I’ll be here to listen.”</p><p>Geralt’s arms dropped back to his sides. For a long time, they were both silent, save for their quiet breaths, and that was no problem for Regis, who was so occupied by his torrential thoughts that the minutes passed as though seconds. It startled him when Geralt finally broke the silence.</p><p>“When I was fresh on the path,” Geralt began. “It was hard to find work. I looked young and small and people didn’t believe I could do the job. They were content to wait for a more experienced witcher. There were more of us, back then. Before people laid siege on the keep.”</p><p>Regis cleared his throat to indicate he was listening, but otherwise remained silent.</p><p>“People wouldn’t employ me for other work either. You know, cutting wood and the like. But someone propositioned me, and it turns out people are curious enough to pay to sleep with a freak as long as they're not completely hideous. Guess they wanted to see how true all the stories about witchers were.” He snorted softly, derisively. “Easiest work I ever did. Just had to lay there and think of anything except what was happening.”</p><p>“Oh, Geralt…” Regis closed a hand over his mouth.</p><p>Geralt ran his hands down his face, shaking his head. “It was consensual, Regis. Doesn’t matter how much I disliked it. I did it willingly. I even made myself approach people when I was desperate. I did it for years, and it kept me fed and warm.” Regis saw his lips thin in the reflection of the trophy. “I stopped, eventually, but that didn’t prevent old jobs from propositioning me on occasion, and one particularly…” He trailed off, seeming unable to find the right words.</p><p>“If you don’t wish to tell me,” said Regis as he stood. He didn’t dare touch Geralt, but he wanted Geralt to know he was there for him, should he need physical comfort. “You don’t have to.”</p><p>“I do,” said Geralt with difficulty. “Or this isn’t going to work.”</p><p>“Then right now, Geralt. You don’t have to tell me <em>right now</em>. You’ve already said much, and if you wish to wait, or if you never wish to tell me specifics at all, that is fine; I do not expect that of you. I understand regardless of how much you divulge that you need time to recover and guidance.”</p><p>Geralt swallowed and glanced back at Regis. Just briefly before his gaze returned to the trophy. “You’re too good to me.”</p><p>“I’m as good to you as you deserve,” said Regis. “And you deserve my best.”</p><p>Geralt said nothing for a long moment.</p><p>“One of the nicer men I'd been with tried to proposition me after I'd stopped, and when I refused, they drugged my drink,” said Geralt simply. “I took that drink willingly. I was too stupid, too naïve to realise they weren’t being friendly. I should’ve known better, but I wanted to believe they liked me.” His head hung between the tense line of his shoulders. “All that witcher training was useless. Didn’t do a damned thing to help with general stupidity. Couldn’t even perform a goddamn sign. Couldn’t seek revenge either, in the end, because he'd invited so many along that the faces just blurred together.”</p><p>Regis had not felt the urge to kill in a very long time. Now, however, he could have happily torn out a few jugulars, watched these wrenches that had touched Geralt bleed out onto the dirt. His fingers involuntarily curled into his palms in disgust.</p><p>“Couldn’t even tell them no,” continued Geralt in a rasp. “The drugs prevented me from speaking. They didn’t even let me have that much.”</p><p>“Geralt…” Regis was struggling to speak. From anger, from anguish, overwhelmed and powerless to do anything about it. He couldn’t kill these men for Geralt; even if Geralt knew who they were, that had been years ago, <em>decades</em> ago, and what good would that do, anyway? It wouldn’t relieve Geralt of his memories of the violation.</p><p>Geralt didn’t turn around.</p><p>“I thought I’d be fine. It’s been long enough.” He slumped even further. It was a painful sight, to see how low the confession brought him. “I’m whining like a – it’s <em>pathetic</em>. I shouldn’t still be harbouring this after so many years. It’s finished. It’s over. I should be able to do what I want with you. I shouldn't be like this.”</p><p>“Don’t say that,” said Regis, coming up to stand behind Geralt, a hand hovering over his shoulder. He so wished to touch him. “There is no time limit on trauma. Things that occurred centuries ago still cause me great grief. There is nothing wrong or unusual with the way you are behaving.”</p><p>“You’re always so reasonable.” Geralt tucked his hands into the crooks of his elbows.</p><p>Regis finally, hesitantly, placed a few fingers upon Geralt’s back. When Geralt didn’t flinch away, he very gently began to stroke his shoulder.</p><p>“None of what happened was your fault. You understand that, don’t you?”</p><p>Geralt scoffed. “You know that’s not true. I was a fool. After all those other times I let people buy me into their bed, I might as well have laid myself out for those men in the alley.”</p><p>“They shouldn’t have wanted to do that to you in the first place.” Regis moved his stoking to Geralt’s spine, trying to compel Geralt to stand a little straighter. He was painful to look at in his current, hunched over position. “I know you would not blame a maiden in your place, so do not blame yourself simply because you are a man and a witcher. Those things don’t preclude you from being harmed in such ways. It was not your fault, Geralt.”</p><p>Geralt gave a sharp breath. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“You don’t have to know, because I do,” said Regis. “I know it is not your fault, and I know you are not less for what happened, and I know the distress you are exhibiting is perfectly normal for someone who went through what you did. All you have to do is trust me, Geralt, and I <em>also</em> know that comes to you easily.”</p><p>Geralt finally turned, his face impassive as he examined Regis. Finally, after a lengthy silence, he took a slow step forward, into Regis’ arms. Regis didn’t hesitate to wrap them around Geralt and bury his face into Geralt’s hair, encasing Geralt in his arms like he could protect him from the entire world.</p><p>“I suspect it will take some time,” said Regis, murmuring against the crown of Geralt’s head, politely pretending he did not feel the tremor that rocked through Geralt’s body. “But you can recover from this. I will help you through it.” He stroked Geralt’s back. “And I want to assure you that that isn’t me saying I want it to <em>go away</em> for my convenience. I understand it’s not something I can simply undo, but I want you to be comfortable with yourself, and with me, and I want that to happen at your own pace, and should we never manage more intimacy than we already have, that is fine.” </p><p>Geralt said nothing, but Regis didn’t expect him to.  It sounded like he had never before divulged this history to someone and doing so now must have been exhausting. He’d already said a great deal and any more would be forcing Geralt beyond what he could cope with.</p><p>“It will be alright,” he murmured, and Geralt came undone beneath his stroking hand.</p>
<hr/><p>Regis didn’t allow the revelation of what had happened to Geralt in his youth to affect the other aspects of their relationship. What Geralt needed was stability, normalcy, and he would not get that if Regis suddenly started treating him like something delicate and broken. The only change he implemented was asking Geralt for permission before initiating any kind of intimacy. He tried to do it in subtle ways, through flirting and casual conversation, but the closer they got to anything more sexual, the more direct he would be about asking. He stopped the moment Geralt displayed any discomfort. It was important to him that Geralt consented to everything he did. He never wanted to hear Geralt plead with him to stop ever again.</p><p>It was hard convincing Geralt he wasn’t at fault for being drugged and raped, and that the sex he had for money wasn’t necessarily consensual just because he did it willingly. He struggled to let himself be a victim, to understand that he <em>was</em> one, and he had to understand, because if he was to be a survivor he needed to accept there was something he had survived. So they worked at it, and worked at it, and Regis felt they were making progress, albeit slowly. There was a lot to unpack after decades of Geralt suppressing his trauma.</p><p>As the weeks passed and Regis learned more of the memories that so plagued Geralt, he learned several things that brought certain behaviours to light:</p><p>He’d always thought Geralt’s promiscuity to simply be part of his makeup as a witcher, but it became clear to Regis after listening to Geralt talk about his relationship with sex that he associated sex with having value and being accepted. That made sense, considering witcher’s were told their entire lives that their only value to people was as an exterminator, and Geralt’s perspective had simply been expanded to include being a sexual curiosity. To untangle this way of thinking proved difficult, but Regis reminded Geralt of his value beyond how he could be used by others often enough that they were making steady progress on extracting those unwelcome threads. </p><p>Another thing he came to realise was that Geralt’s tendency to be submissive in bed was a learned behaviour. The men who had propositioned him had never wanted to be penetrated; they had always wanted to fuck Geralt, and Geralt consequently preferred the submissive position, even with women. He seemed to genuinely enjoy being submissive, but Regis would have to - slowly, cautiously - show him that submission, particularly with men, did not have to come at the cost at his dignity or comfort. It could be a beautiful, fulfilling experience, and he would make sure Geralt knew that.</p><p>The journey to recovery was a long one, and Regis was more than willing to undertake it.</p>
<hr/><p>Geralt would try to initiate sex. ‘Try’ being the operative word. Rarely would they get beyond kissing and heavy petting before they had to stop. They got a little further each time and Geralt was getting bolder, making it known what he wanted and how, but the anxiety that would crawl up on Geralt prevented Geralt from getting as far as he wanted to. It was frustrating for both of them, but most of all Geralt, who had so often yielded to his flight or fight reflex when attempting sex with men in the past that his body now instinctively flooded him with adrenaline and sent him into a panic almost every single time he tried to be intimate with Regis. He got so angry at some points that he broke things. Regis had gotten very good at calming him down.</p><p>Sometimes it was Regis who stopped the scene, as when they did get far enough for Regis to be on top of him with a hand down his trousers, Geralt would simply lie there, waiting and unresponsive, and it just – god, it scared him when Geralt did that. It scared him so much. How many times must he have done that in the past? Simply lay there while someone took him? Stared at the wall, doing nothing, waiting for it to be over? It made him sick to think about.</p><p>It was hard to figure out exactly what he should be doing when Geralt initiated sex. He couldn’t profess to understanding rape from the perspective of a victim. Regis, being a vampire, was rarely victimised, and being rather bland in appearance, few people had ever tried to victimise him in a sexual context. Oh, some had tried; an older vampire had laid a hand on his thigh while he was still a fledgling, and a female vampire had attempted to mount him while he was too inebriated to resist, but he’d always escaped from those situations unscathed, sometimes through his own actions and sometimes through a convenient distraction. He didn't know exactly what Geralt was feeling whenever they were intimate and that troubled him.</p><p>So he listened to Geralt. He listened to what he wanted and trusted that Geralt listened to <em>him</em> when he told the man not to press beyond what he was comfortable with. There were no guidelines for this, no easy path; one just had to listen and to trust. </p>
<hr/><p>Geralt’s birthday arrived and with it came Geralt’s friends and family. He was turning seventy-two. A noteworthy number, and one Dandelion and Zoltan ensured was celebrated with plenty of good food, drink, and music. It was a celebration held at Corvo Bianco, catered primarily by Marlene and attended only by close friends, but that just made it all the more pleasant.</p><p>It was during this party that he and Geralt unveiled that they were a couple. Not directly, mind you, but it was a hard thing to hide when one of you (Regis) had developed a habit of referring to the other as ‘love’. Ciri was first to realise, and goodness, did she look pleased. The hug she gave Regis was full of enthusiasm.</p><p>“You know,” she said as she parted their bodies, grinning. “I’ve suspected you two had a thing for each other ever since Geralt moved here.”</p><p>“You did?” asked Regis, amused. It had never occurred to <em>him</em> that Geralt would ever reciprocate his feelings. He’d hoped, certainly, but never had he thought he would get into a relationship with the man.</p><p>“’Course I did,” said Ciri. “Anyone with two eyes would have noticed the way you two look at each other.” She placed her hands on her hips, turning to watch Geralt cut himself another slice of birthday cake. Evidently Ciri knew them both better than they knew themselves. “I’ve looked at someone like that before. I know the signs.”</p><p>“According to rumours,” said Regis, smiling broadly. “You are currently ‘looking at someone like that’. I don’t suppose they hold any truth?”</p><p>Ciri blushed faintly. “News travels far, huh?”</p><p>“When it concerns the queen of Skellige, it most certainly does.”</p><p>“There might be some truth.” She shrugged a shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “You’ll all have to wait and see.”</p><p>“Well then,” said Regis, chuckling. “I wish both of you the best of luck.”</p><p>Ciri nodded her thanks and went to get herself a fresh plate of food. As Regis had already had his fill, he made himself comfortable by the wall and listened to Dandelion and Priscilla perform a song. With Priscilla throat still in the process of healing, she wasn’t able to sing, but she was so talented on the lute that that didn’t much matter, and Dandelion’s voice, while not as lovely, was still pleasant to listen to.</p><p>During the middle of the song, a heavily scarred man with neatly combed brown hair seated himself next to Regis. He sat in silence for a long moment, taking swigs of wine from a goblet. When he finally acknowledged Regis’ presence, he had just as calm a voice as Regis had been expecting.</p><p>“Have you two been together long?”</p><p>Regis folded his hands in his lap. “Traditionally conversations start with an introduction.”</p><p>“Right. Eskel.” Eskel bowed his head. “No need to tell me your name. Geralt has spoken of you enough.”</p><p>“I will tell you regardless,” said Regis. “Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, or Regis for short. It is a pleasure to meet you, Eskel.”</p><p>“Likewise,” said Eskel. He polished off the wine in his goblet before speaking again. “So, would you mind answering my question?”</p><p>“Six months,” said Regis, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs at the knee. “A six months not without its difficulties, but a pleasant six months.”</p><p>“He seems happy.”</p><p>“Are you surprised?”</p><p>“A little,” admitted Eskel. “He’s never shown interest in men before. In fact, I…” A long pause. “Well, he’s happy. That’s what’s important.”</p><p>“Yes,” agreed Regis. It didn’t seem wise to press for the rest of what he’d been about to say. “That’s what’s important.”</p><p>“But, just to be clear,” said Eskel, turning in his seat to face Regis. The fact he had some cranberry sauce splattered on his coat made the way he was regarding Regis no less intimidating. “If you do anything to hurt him, those fifty years you spent in the dirt are going to feel like a triviality.”</p><p>To this threat, Regis merely smiled. “Of course. I’m sure Geralt would appreciate your concern.”</p><p>Eskel snorted. “No, he wouldn’t. But he’s getting it anyway.”</p><p>“Thank you, Eskel,” said Regis, and he meant it. “Geralt needs friends like you. I’m glad you approached me.”</p><p>Eskel glanced at him with surprise touching his features. It was only natural that a witcher should have preconceptions about how vampires behaved, and Regis was pleased to be proving them wrong.</p><p>“You seem a good sort,” said Eskel.</p><p>Considering he’d been threatened not five minutes ago, Regis was flattered. “I’m pleased to hear you think so.”</p><p>“Take care of him.”</p><p>That was where the conversation ended. Eskel abandoned his chair to converse with the Duchess, who he seemed to have taken a liking to. The way the Duchess fluttered her eyelashes at him suggested she too shared this liking.</p><p>Regis, having apparently not exhausted his curiosity as Geralt’s new partner, received several questions and congratulations throughout the evening. The most notable remained Eskel’s, but the one called Lambert certainly fought for a spot at the top with his open incredulity that Geralt would ever choose a vampire over a beautiful sorceress. Even if, in Lambert's opinion, Geralt’s last sorceress love had been (in much politer terms) not a good match.</p><p>The celebrations continued until late into the night, and when finally he and Geralt were able to crawl into bed, they both fell asleep within seconds of hitting the mattress.</p>
<hr/><p>When Geralt slept instead of meditating, he was prone to nightmares. He had been since the day they had met. They had been prophetic in nature at that time; now, however, they were simply nightmares brought on by past events. Sometimes he dreamed of Vigefortz, and sometimes of the Wild Hunt, and more recently, of the faceless men that had assaulted him in that filthy alleyway. Those dreams had made a resurgence after Geralt had divulged his story.</p><p>Regis had gotten good at identifying just what dream he was having by the sounds he made. When he dreamt of the men, it was generally accompanied by harsh breaths and violent twitching. Regis couldn’t make out words, but he could tell what Geralt was trying to say by the shape of his lips, and that shape made him glad they weren’t intelligible.</p><p>Regis shook him awake. It was the only way he could be sure the dream would end. He had simply tried holding Geralt in the past, stroking his hair and back and shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. The dream would proceed in spite of his efforts. It was a fortunate thing Geralt was retired, because he liked to sleep in after such nights.  </p><p>It was after one such nightmare that Geralt sat up in bed, staring at the wall with a vague, unseeing gaze. Regis looked up at him with concern.</p><p>“After that bullshit,” said Geralt, his eyes shining bright in the dark of the room. “I took on increasingly dangerous jobs. Almost died a few times.” He laughed softly, no mirth in the sound. “Wasn’t the last time I did something like that either. At that age, I just found it easier to throw myself into danger than confront difficult things.”</p><p>Regis pulled himself up against the headboard, seating himself beside Geralt. A solid presence should he need one. “I’m very glad you survived, obviously.”</p><p>“Me too,” said Geralt, and his hand found Regis’ ankle, clutching gently. The stiffness drained from his body as his hand moulded over Regis’ familiar skin. “I'm glad I'm here, and I'm glad I'm facing this. For many reasons, and especially for this.” After a moments silence, his head slipped to Regis’ shoulder, sweat-slick forehead tucked against his neck. Regis could feel the warmth of his breath skating across his clavicle. “You know, I think being with you might be the easiest thing I’ve done.”</p><p>“Oh?” asked Regis, cracking a smile. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yeah,” breathed Geralt, smiling back. “Loving you is easy, even with all the other shit. Everything in my life has been damn complicated, <em>except</em> the way I feel about you. I want you to know that.” He drew back just enough to look into Regis' eyes. "I want you know know, despite everything, it's been like that from the very start."</p><p>“Geralt, that’s…” Regis swallowed against the tightness developing in his throat. Moving slow and tentative, he leaned down to press a kiss to Geralt’s jaw, which Geralt manoeuvred into a proper kiss by pulling him in by the front of his shirt. Regis could hear his pulse, and it was slow and steady, at ease. The adrenaline from the nightmare had already faded.</p><p>“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he murmured against Regis’ lips.</p>
<hr/><p>Geralt knew what he wanted, and tonight, going on a year after Regis’ confession, he seemed determined to get it.</p><p>Regis let him guide them, to begin with. He forced himself not to touch, not to take. He asked Geralt before doing anything and was gentle and slow when given permission. It took longer than it ever had with any other partner, but within thirty minutes they were naked in bed, Geralt beneath him, stroking his palms up Regis’ chest and flicking a thumb over a nipple. Regis breathed a gasp and Geralt smiled.</p><p>“Can’t believe I let myself miss out on this for so long.”</p><p>“I’m flattered,” said Regis, leaning down and kissing him long and slow. It wasn’t until he felt Geralt’s breaths become ragged that he stopped, gazing down at him to assess his reaction.</p><p>Aroused. Relaxed.</p><p>This was promising. They had never gotten this far before without anxiety drawing itself into every inch of Geralt’s face, so apparent that even if Geralt had <em>wanted</em> to continue, Regis most certainly couldn’t.</p><p>He ran his fingers over Geralt’s inner thigh, waiting until Geralt spread his legs before continuing to explore. He didn’t touch his entrance yet. He wanted Geralt to be thoroughly wrung out before even attempting that.</p><p>Geralt’s hands came to rest on his shoulders as Regis moved down his body, kissing his way to the arousal jutting up between Geralt’s legs. He was hard and red. Another promising sign. He waited until Geralt whined and rolled his hips, his cock seeking contact, before he curled his fingers around the base of Geralt’s cock and gave it a slow stroke.</p><p>“How far would you like to go tonight?” he asked, still stroking, and Geralt gazed at him dazedly.</p><p>“Want you to fuck me.”</p><p>Regis was a little taken aback: he hadn’t made that request before. Usually he would asked to be touched and little more. “Are you certain? I don’t wish to rush things.”</p><p>“It’s been ten months,” said Geralt wryly. “Think that’s long enough.”</p><p>Regis nodded, moving to mouth the underside of Geralt’s cock. A groan barrelled out of Geralt, and it was such a lovely sound that Regis found his own cock becoming heavy between his legs. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, then licked the leathery head of Geralt’s cock and moulded his tongue over it. The sounds <em>that</em> drew out of Geralt were even more delightful. He smiled to himself, giving Geralt’s cock several longer, harder licks and carefully undulating his ball sack with his fingers.</p><p>“Regis,” Geralt breathed. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing, but I haven’t had sex in months, and I’m gonna come in two minutes flat if you don’t ease up.”</p><p>“You have enough stamina that I doubt that would hinder us,” said Regis teasingly.</p><p>Geralt suddenly tensed, his hands falling away from Regis. His arousal flagged in Regis’ grip.</p><p>Regis released it in a flash, looking wide eyed at Geralt. “What did I…?”</p><p>“Sorry,” said Geralt, fisting his hands at his sides, in the sheets. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You can continue.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” said Regis quickly. “It’s alright, Geralt. Tell me what’s wrong.”</p><p>“They complimented my stamina. Multiple times.” Geralt shrugged. “That’s all. Just get on with it. I’m fine.”</p><p>Regis frowned at him. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”</p><p>“Can’t believe I hate to say this, but I am comfortable with getting a blow job, Regis,” said Geralt wryly. “There are worse things to suffer through. Go on.”</p><p>Regis continued to frown at him for a good minute more before finally obliging Geralt’s demand, lowering his head back to Geralt’s cock and licking it until it was firm again. The way Geralt groaned and shifted encouraged Regis. He opened his mouth, letting Geralt’s cock slip into the back of his throat with the sort of ease that couldn’t be managed by a mere human. He was sure the sound that left Geralt, so loud and shrill, must have awoken at least half of Geralt’s staff, but he didn’t stop, stroking the base of Geralt’s cock as he bobbed up and down.</p><p>Geralt’s orgasm came just as quickly as Geralt had feared it would, filling Regis’ throat with a saltiness that he swallowed down with relish. Licking his lips, he glanced up at Geralt to find the man red faced and panting, watching Regis through half-lidded eyes, his pale eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked away sweat on them.</p><p>“How was that?” Regis asked, thought he hardly needed an answer.</p><p>“Don’t fish for compliments,” muttered Geralt, raising a hand to his face and tucking the hair that had fallen over it behind an ear. “Or at least wait until we’ve finished.”</p><p>“We’ve not finished?” asked Regis, releasing Geralt’s cock and rising onto his knees.</p><p>“You’ve yet to fuck me.”</p><p>“Geralt, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for that,” said Regis, casting his eyes to the small flask of oil sitting on the bedside table. It hadn’t yet to be utilised. He was hungry for more, his cock hard and red and bouncing against his stomach, but he forced himself to look back at Geralt’s face. “I can wait as long as you need. One year, five, never – I will love you and want you regardless.”</p><p>“I want this,” Geralt insisted. “Regis, I’ve been thinking about it every day for months. I want you to fuck me. If you don’t do it now, I might not- so just get over here and do what I’m asking of you.”</p><p>Regis hesitated. He hesitated long enough that Geralt grew frustrated, nudging him with a heel.</p><p>“Alright, Geralt,” said Regis as he reached for the oil, taking it slowly so to give Geralt time to consider what he was asking. If he wanted to be fucked, Regis was more than happy to oblige, but he had to be sure Geralt <em>wanted</em> it.</p><p>Geralt didn’t stop him verbally, nor physically. In fact, he spread his legs even further, rolling his hips up to give Regis better access to his intimates. Regis’ gaze was drawn to his entrance, marvelling at the soft, pink hole Geralt was offering to him. What a lucky man he was. He restrained himself, however, liberally coating his fingers in the oil and sliding it only along the inside of Geralt’s thigh, watching him closely for his reaction.</p><p>He didn’t do much beyond fluttering his eyelashes and taking a heavy breath, neither action of which indicated discomfort. Regis chanced touching his index finger gently to Geralt’s entrance, and Geralt merely licked his lips, watching the journey of Regis’ hand.</p><p>Slowly, he slipped in a finger. Geralt closed his eyes, his breath stuttering. He was surprisingly loose for one who hadn’t partaken in anal in very long time. He must have been relaxed.</p><p>Feeling a little more emboldened by this knowledge, Regis started moving inside of him, stretching his walls gently but with purpose. They opened easily around his finger, and so after several minutes of preparation, he added another. This one didn’t enter as smoothly, but it didn’t take Geralt long to relax into Regis’ touch. He stretched, pistoned, and worked his fingers as deep as he could before drawing them out. Once Geralt was adequately oiled up, he searched for that little ball of nerves deep inside of him and began to rub at it, watching Geralt with a smile as the man shivered uncontrollably and tore his fingers into the bed sheets, seeking a purchase he could not find.  </p><p>“Fuck,” he slurred. “Fuck, what is <em>that</em>? What’re you doing?”</p><p>The man didn’t know he had a prostate. Regis might have laughed were that not so terribly sad. It was perhaps a good thing he hadn’t enjoyed any aspect of his rape, saving him some humiliation, but it also meant he hadn’t enjoyed himself any of the other times he’d had sex, either. Not once had someone made the experience pleasurable for him.</p><p>Regis resolved to make this the most mind-blowing sex Geralt had ever experienced.</p><p>“We can get into technicalities later,” said Regis, stimulating his prostate with slow, measured strokes that left Geralt writhing upon the mattress. He applied more oil as he worked in another finger, getting him good and slick for the main event. He intended to empty the entire bottle before attempting to get his cock, which was nothing to bat an eyelash at, inside of him. It would be a squeeze even with ample preparation.</p><p>Geralt came once more through use of Regis’ fingers alone. He spilled into Regis’ hand, which quickly cupped over the straining head of Geralt's cock. Much of it was caught, but some slipped between his fingers, staining Geralt’s pale skin. Regis didn’t much mind the sight. He looked very good splattered in come and he would have looked even better had it been a little further up his body. But that was something to indulge in later.</p><p>He was careful not to send Geralt into climax again. There was only so far his infamous witcher stamina could stretch. He resumed preparing him, applying oil until there was not a drop left in the flask. It left a sizeable puddle on the bed sheets. Regis was going to have to wash it later.</p><p>“Geralt,” said Regis, to get his attention. “Are you ready? Use your voice to answer. I want to hear you say it.”</p><p>“Hurry up,” he breathed.</p><p>Close enough.</p><p>Regis removed his fingers, pulling Geralt into his lap and guiding him into wrapping his legs around Regis’ waist. Whatever position Geralt’s assailants had had him in at the time of the rape, he was sure it wasn’t something as intimate as this.</p><p>He watched Geralt’s face with rapt attention as he eased inside. Just the head to start with, to give Geralt ample time to adjust.</p><p>Geralt shifted restlessly. Not uncomfortable, just overwrought by the sensations. Regis waited.</p><p>“You-you gonna move anytime soon?” Geralt asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at him, and only then did Regis begin to advance.</p><p>It was as tight a fit as he had been anticipating. He bit the inside of his cheek, controlling his urge to hasten his entrance. Geralt was so hot and tight and he’d never seen a man who looked quite so beautiful, but he restrained himself. He would not <em>use</em> Geralt as so many men had in the past. This night was about Geralt and Geralt’s pleasure, not his own.</p><p>Once at the hilt, he stopped, stroking Geralt’s stomach as the man adjusted to his girth. He placed a kiss on the knee closest to him.</p><p>“Do you feel alright?” he asked, his own voice trembling.</p><p>“Far from alright,” said Geralt, which sent Regis’ blood cold for a good second before he tacked on a, “Didn’t know having a dick in you could feel this good.”</p><p>Regis smiled in relief. “Shall I start moving?”</p><p>“Go for it. Just try not to tear anything.” Geralt squirmed in his lap. “Assuming that’s possible with how much oil you used.”</p><p>“It would take extreme effort on my part, and as you can imagine, that’s not something I <em>want</em> to do,” said Regis.</p><p>He did not thrust, though he was desperate to do so. He restricted himself to rolling his hips, grinding more than anything else, making practised strokes at that small bundle of nerves within Geralt. He grasped Geralt’s cock in hand as he moved, watching through a daze of lust and pleasure as Geralt unwound beneath him. He shifted his every limb and curled his fingers and toes, throwing his head back, bearing the pale stretch of his neck. He could almost see the stars that were in Geralt’s eyes when completion came crashing down on Geralt once more, filling Regis’ palm with more sticky warmth. He used to it to continue milking Geralt’s cock, stroking him into hardness once again and rolling his hips languidly until Geralt finished a forth time. Little come came out. He was nearing empty.</p><p>Regis’ turn came as Geralt groaned his name, so soft and beautifully, his back arched and chest heaving. He spilled into Geralt and shuddered from head to toe, with an orgasm more powerful than he had experienced in a very long time.</p><p>The world flashed white and then black and when finally he recovered his vision, the first thing he saw was Geralt smiling at him, soft and satiated. He crawled up Geralt’s body to claim that smile with his lips.</p><p>“That was good,” mumbled Geralt, folding his arms over Regis’ shoulders. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After four hundred years, you ought to have learned some tricks.”</p><p>“I most definitely have,” said Regis, nosing into Geralt’s neck, making himself comfortable there. “And I’d be more than happy to introduce you to the rest of them in the future.”</p>
<hr/><p>At a pace Geralt chose, sex with Regis was introduced to their relationship. It didn’t happen regularly. It didn’t always involve penetration, either, and sometimes Geralt would need to stop half-way through. But steadily, he was beginning to associate sex with men with love and pleasure rather than the trauma of his youth. There was still a long way to go, of course; one did not recover from trauma they had sweltered in for decades over the course of a single year, and thus it would be some time before Geralt was wholly comfortable. But it <em>would</em> happen, of that Regis was certain.</p><p>There came a night where Geralt described the whole ordeal for him, in painful detail. It was something both of them needed to hear. He held Geralt once Geralt was done. He held Geralt for a long time. He didn’t want to let go, like he was afraid Geralt would break apart if he did. But Geralt didn’t. He stood up at the end of it all, tall and solid as ever.</p><p>The bits of Geralt that did break, splintered off and scatter about were deftly picked up by Regis and pressed back into place. These were occasions where Geralt needed to be comforted after a nightmare, or held upon failed sex, or told he was not to blame, that he had not deserved what happened to him, or simply shown in various ways that he was worthy of love and pleasure. He put back every little piece he could find and filled the rest with himself, because not all fragments could be simply slotted back into place; sometimes you had to give a little bit of yourself to repair the more gaping of chasms. Regis would have given Geralt every inch of himself had he the ability. But the fragments, the little things Geralt needed, would have to suffice.</p><p>He had wished, in the past, to replace the scar tissue on Geralt with his own skin, to bear even a little of Geralt’s pain. But this was more important. These gaps were more important and they hurt far more, and Regis <em>could</em> fill them, and he was happy to do so. He intended to fill every single one until every part of Geralt was whole again.</p>
<hr/><p>The memories never went away. They never would. But Geralt told him he had a method of dealing with that: he allowed himself to think about those memories. He would let himself <em>feel</em> the fear and disgust and pain until it started to border on too much, and then he would push it all back to the recesses of his mind. Not repressing, but accepting.</p><p>He didn’t hide from what had happened to him as he had in the past. He looked upon it with the derision and anger it deserved, and then he put it away, and he did not touch it again for a very long time. He didn't have to, because the him in those memories and the him who had loathed himself for them was gone. </p><p>He was not that lonely, desperate boy who'd been taken advantage of time and again; he was not the boy who had harboured this as a personal failing, and he was not the man who had spent decades still believing it was his fault. When Regis asked him who he was now, Geralt smiled and threaded their fingers and leaned in close, his mouth by Regis’ ear.</p><p>“Yours.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>